Motorcycle Parts in the Oven, Rocks in the Microwave

I have turned into a woman who has favorite dish towels. Without stains they sit freshly folded (and hidden) from my husband.  The critical words in that last sentence are “without stains and hidden”, because I married a man who cooks motorcycle parts in my oven. This begs the question what parts of a motorcycle are edible?  The answer is none, he  was just heating the parts to loosen some piston rings.

Who needs the scent of, say, fresh bread when you can enjoy the ambience of scorched motor oil? And as to the question of red or white wine with this unexpected entrée?  Neither though bourbon might work.

It is all part of the craziness of our  kitchen.  Motorcycle parts in the oven, rocks in the freezer and microwave.  The rocks are mine, I found them in a formation of laminated granite.  They are fine coatings of crystal, like geodes only flat.  Called drusy they are Oreo sized and beautiful.  And sadly, they are sandwiched like an Oreo, ugly rock where the cookie part is, pretty crystals where the crème filling normally sits.  Over time in nature the freezing and thawing process causes t the rock cookie to split, and the two halves fall apart revealing al the druzy crystals inside.  I had some specimens that I wanted to split so I put them in the freezer.  Then I would thaw the rock filled chunk of ice in the microwave. Then freeze, then thaw.  My science experiment ended when FuzzyMan the rocks in the microwave.

I will have to give the man credit, he merely set the rocks aside and went about microwaving his breakfast.

All part of normal day in the landscape of marital tit for tat.  Appropriating kitchen appliances as tools for projects is one way we are much alike.  Early this  spring I found different motorcycle parts, O rings, in the freezer.  That was the same weekend I used his motorcycle as a sawhorse. It was the perfect height and besides it was blocking the workbench. Stuck my project on top of it and sawed away.

And I would have gotten away with it had I not missed the bits of tattletale sawdust I left behind.